Wild Wild West The Night of the Tiger Lily

I was nine when I met him. Frizzy red hair and skinny. Freckled and gawky. Dirty and boyish. Happily doing all the things that gave my mother fits. Fighting and wrestling with Bill and Jake. Racing...and beating them...on bare feet and exchanging my dresses for discarded play clothes of my brother Patrick's. Mother thought she had confiscated all of them and was forever beside herself to discover I had yet another pair of pants in reserve. I wanted nothing more then to be whom I was at the time. I imagined myself growing up allowed to just be me. Life was an adventure and nothing bad ever happened in adventures except that the adventurer escaped and won and was showered with accolades and feelings of well-being and fun. This was an impossible dream. I know that now. I dreamed of it anyway but it was a grand dream. Dreams modify, and some disappear entirely and make room for newer dreams. I was far from being a woman, but I knew when I saw him that a new dream had taken root in my heart. Who could look at him and not have the same dream?  
  
The war seemed to go on forever and Poppa was in the thick of it, it seemed. My brother Patrick had just left for his share of it and the estate seemed to mourn his absence as much as I and my mother. We, but Mother especially, longed for something to take our minds away from the lonely emptiness of an estate bereft of men. I had play to occupy me but poor Mother was like a flower wilting at winter's approach, and sadly the more time she had on her hands the more time she had to try to make me act like a lady...which I detested. So when father was set to visit with General Grant and some junior officers Mother was so busy readying rooms and making herself pretty, I was left to my own devices and took full advantage of the freedom to behave as a savage. When they arrived sooner then expected I was hidden deep inside a tree growing over the road leading to the estate and was determined to stay hidden until it was safe to sneak off and change before my father could see me in my forbidden play clothes. I watched quietly as my father and a cigar chomping General Grant approached followed by three young officers, all on horseback. My father was a handsome bear of a man with dark hair and dark eyes under heavy expressive brows. Colonel Lassiter, my father, came from a long family history of military men. All the way back to 1635, he could trace military roots. Fiercely proud and bold he was. And I was fiercely proud of him. He looked so handsome on that horse I almost leapt from the tree to greet him then, but held back. As much as my father loved me he strongly disapproved of my unladylike ways. He detested my preference for rough play over the study of cooking and mending clothes and forever threatened sending me to finishing school. He felt the sooner I accepted my "woman's lot" the happier I'd be.   
  
Father mustn't see me now.... and as much as I wanted to hug him I knew it would be best for him to see me as the young lady he hoped I was becoming. So I watched from the safety of my hidden perch. The General didn't impress me. His beard looked itchy and his cigar smelled badly, which spoke to me of bad taste since my father smoked cigars too yet his seemed aromatic and not harsh, nor acrid, like General Grant's. They passed beneath me and I almost sneezed at the nasty fumes. Then the two lieutenants passed under me chattering like schoolboys...they were about my brother's age and reminded me of his awkwardness as they loped along with slouched backs and casual manners. I was itching to leave my hiding place and just waited for the last officer to pass. But I froze as he approached.  
  
I was unsure of how I was feeling and couldn't identify the reason my young heart sped up its beat. The Captain approaching me sat straight in his saddle without looking stiff or at attention. His face was strong and clean and, honestly, it was the most perfect face I'd ever seen. Drawings of Greek Gods paled to it. Michelangelo's David was poor in frame to his. I was open mouthed in awe of this man, and his mannerisms held my eye. He was watchful, as I had never seen a man before or since. He looked like he was a creature born to guard and forever on alert to any unseen enemy. His eyes moved so slightly, so casually, you could almost imagine he was indifferent to his surroundings but I knew otherwise. This man saw everything...took in EVERYTHING, no matter how small or insignificant. And to illustrate this very thought he took that opportunity to look up suddenly and lock eyes with me. I gasped.   
  
Part of me thought he was looking straight into my heart and I stepped back up a branch or two. Then he smiled. I cocked my head curiously. I smiled back only to close my mouth when I remembered the missing tooth up front and how Jake said it made me look like the lantern Miss O'Leary carved from a pumpkin to amuse us on All Hallows. But his smile made me stare...took me straight in. He had dimples which ran like canyons on either side of his unlined, strong face, and his smile was bright and his teeth as perfect as the rest of him.   
  
Part of my trouble has probably been seeing him in this light for far too long. Perhaps if we had met when I was an adult I would have held him as the less then perfect man he, we all are, by our human natures. But I saw him at a tender age and the smile was a gift and shone like Apollo in my imagination.  
  
Then he spoke...his eyes crinkled at the corners and his voice was clear and strong. "Colonel, Sir? I wasn't aware you had an orchard?"  
  
My father turned in his saddle. "An "orchard" Capt. West?" His eyes followed the Captain's.   
  
"Yes sir....you seem to have pretty girls growing in your trees..." he winked at me. I was beside myself for a moment. He called me pretty. It was a lie, of course, but it was a lie I suddenly wanted to believe for the first time. The only people to call me pretty were Momma and Father...and only when I dressed the part. This "god" had just called me pretty in bare feet and boy's clothes. I was giggling stupidly when I heard my father shout.  
  
"Jennifer Mary Lassiter!" I startled, remembering where I was again and turned quickly to see my father's color deepen to see me at my dirtiest, high in a tree over his commanding officer's head. I gulped and took a step back and slipped. My hands reached out in front of me frantically and a small branch broke off in my hand. I saw the young Captain's eyes go wide and I tumbled downward striking branches hard and feeling twigs dig into me like claws and knowing I would hit the earth soon.   
  
Then I lost my breath as I felt the give of a strong arm catch me around my waist and halt my fall. I was lifted and held across a saddle my legs dangled over the leg of my rescuer. Cradled. I felt a hand on my cheek. And a voice pitched with concern. Not my father's. "Are you all right? Jennifer...are you all right?" I took a shaky breath and opened my eyes slowly. The young officer held me across his lap and I nodded slowly...mutely. He looked at me with warm hazel/blue eyes that seemed genuinely relieved, and he absentmindedly plucked twigs and leaves from my hair while I stared at him. We both turned at my father's voice calling my name then he frantically snatched me from the Captain's horse and hugged me fiercely to him. Then holding me at arms length as I stood before him he asked.  
  
"Oh Jenny are you alright?"   
  
I nodded and lowered my eyes "Yes Poppa." Barely a whisper. "Poppa I'm sorry...I didn't mean..."  
  
My father's worry and fear turned to fury. "Didn't mean to what?!" To dress like a savage? To run about like a beggar child on the day you knew I would be arriving? You didn't mean to embarrass yourself and me with this shameless display? You didn't mean to put Captain West here to the trouble of keeping you from killing yourself?! What didn't you mean to do Jennifer? What?!"  
  
I was breathing heavily. I was suddenly aware of all those eyes on me. My father pointing out my misdeeds and flaws and my mind scoring flaws he failed to mention from my frizzy hair to my teams of freckles. I would gladly have died on the spot to escape the haranguing I received but I stood still and tried not to cry so hard a knot in my throat threatened to choke me and the blush in my skin reddened me to my redder roots. I was awash in humiliation.   
  
"Begging your pardon sir," Captain West spoke and my back stiffened. "Please sir...this is my fault. I frightened the girl and she fell. She may not have been allowed in the tree but I don't think she meant to embarrass you...and she wouldn't have if I hadn't pointed her out."   
  
I reminded myself to breathe. Turning my head slightly to see the Captain behind me as he looked at my father in all seriousness, defending me like a lawyer...my heart felt near to bursting.   
  
"You presume too much young man. I can't fault you for your kindness toward my little hoyden, most especially since you just saved her silly neck. BUT.." My father said sternly, but not angrily. "I will discipline my daughter as I see fit." But, for your sake, I will spare her the willow branch this deserves." I flinched under his gaze. "Tell Captain James West thank you and apologize for inconveniencing him."  
  
I turned and didn't look up. "Thank you Capt. West." I whispered. "And..." he interrupted me by finishing my sentence.  
  
"I'm sorry." He said sincerely.   
  
I looked up startled and brought a hand to my face when I realized tears held back were falling. Grown ups don't apologize to children...they are never wrong. I turned and ran...I ran for the woods...I looked back to see my father and the officers reach the door to our home, but Captain James West held back and his eyes followed me sadly into the woods.  
  
I went to my secret place deep in the woods and got my dress and went to the creek and stood in it cleaning the dirt from my body and washing my hair and face hard with the cool water. I unbraided my hair and combed it hopelessly with my fingers and re braided it in two, now soggy, plaits. I washed the dirt and scrapes from the fall until my skin felt raw but couldn't erase the marks that would bruise and point out my mistakes. Once again in girl's guise I prepared to race back to the house, but couldn't. I was too embarrassed...and though it had never bothered me until now...ugly. My appearance had never been a concern. Did Boadicca of the Iceni worry how she looked as she fought Rome? Did the Pirate Queen? Did the Amazons of legend? I commanded legions in my imagination here that didn't care how I looked but NOW...now I wanted to desperately look "pretty" and I knew that was impossible. I walked out far into the center of the fallen log that connected one side of the creek to the other and sat dangling my scraped legs, now in stockings and shoes, over the side and sobbed.  
  
I must have been gone for hours...the sun was filtering orange through the trees and I knew the dinner bell would ring soon for all. I had cried myself out and now sat throwing rocks at my reflection. I watched it break and reform...break and reform...break and...a reflection formed on the other side of the creek and I looked up. The Captain held a low branch as he walked around a tree and smiled when he saw me and, like I said, he saw everything, and he stopped. "Are you okay Jenny?"  
  
I nodded. He was coming closer and I wanted to get up and run again but didn't. He balanced along the dead tree bridge and pretended to almost topple a couple of times, and it was just pretending, because he wasn't the type to be thrown off by a log. And he stood beside me. "May I sit?" Can you believe he asked me? I nodded again and he sat dangling his legs next to mine and I realized for the first time that he wasn't the tallest man I had ever seen...but what did that matter. What mattered was why he was even here? This was an important man with busy man's work to do and he was taking the time to look for me...why? I looked up and I think he read the question on my face. "I was worried about you." He said without a trace of lie. "I meant what I said...I'm so sorry for getting you into trouble with your father Jenny." I was numb. I found my voice and it was strange in my ears.   
  
"It was my fault...I should act like a lady, Captain."  
  
"Call me Jim." He urged me. "Please."  
  
"Jim." I whispered. He grinned. Looking around at my hide-away he saw my pirate ship of board and logs...my forts...ropes for swinging and tree ladders climbing up into trees too tall to see the contents therein. He whistled.   
  
"Nice place you've built here. Mind if I come here to relax during my stay?"  
  
I felt a swell of pride. He picked up a "sword" of wood and baling twine and pointed it at me. Poking me under the ribs where it tickled.   
  
"I take it dolls are not your favorite things." I made a face and he laughed.   
  
I took the "sword" from him and stood whipping it over our heads. "I am Boadicca of the Iceni!" then I sat down and dropped the wooden toy into the water below. "But I'm not a lady." I felt the tears well again and hated that.  
  
Jim nodded his head thoughtfully. Then sweeping an arm around grandly he declared. "Then maybe you're MORE then a lady!"  
  
I was being teased now and didn't like it. "How can I be more then a lady?"  
  
He looked at me in all seriousness and asked. "Do you think an everyday, ordinary lady could take the fall you did without a sound?" He shook his head as though genuinely awed. "You still haven't even said ouch yet have you? That's pretty impressive."  
  
And he did sound impressed and I felt my chest expand proudly and I muttered a much suppressed. "Ouch."  
  
He laughed, and so did I.  
  
"Did you know that Joan of Arc once took an arrow through her shoulder without a sound and still led her troops to win an important battle?"   
  
Jim winced. "No I didn't." He looked down into the water after my fallen sword and smiled. "Was she a lady?"  
  
Before I could think I blurted out. "She was a great, grand lady!"  
  
Then he turned his head and looked me in the eye. "Don't ever try to be ordinary Jenny."  
  
Silently he got up and I followed and when we reached the bank the bell rang for dinner. Jim turned and plucked a Tiger Lily from the bank and tucked it in my hair. Tipping my chin up with his fingertip he smiled.  
  
"You'll be a grand lady Tiger Lily."  
  
Then he extended his arm to me like he was my escort. "Shall we go to dinner?"  
  
I giggled, and with my head held high. "Let's!"  
  
So that's what he started calling me. Tiger Lily. And I liked it. No ordinary Jennifer or Jenny...I was Jim West's Tiger Lily.  
  
Those two weeks my father and his fellow warriors stayed with us were the happiest of my childhood. Whilst in the guise of the "lady" my father wanted me to be indoors Jim always had a smile for me even at his busiest moments taking time to halt his speaking to General Grant once to wink at me. And he was busy. I would sit in a high backed chair in the far corner of the library pretending to read and watch Poppa and the General and Jim, who was the General's Aide de Camp, pour over maps until I was taken off to bed. I could hear them talk and argue points through a vent in my room until the wee hours. I could hear laughter too...Jim's especially. I would fall to sleep listening to them. There was time for Jim to relax as well. And when he wasn't made to spend that time in adult activities of drinking and dancing...he spent it with me.   
  
I rode sitting in front of him as he urged his horse faster and faster and with Jim on my side we forever bested Jake and Bill at Capture the Flag. And when Jim would take exercise with the two young lieutenants I would watch. Jim moved gracefully. Compactly. Dodging blow after blow in impromptu boxing matches. These brawny young men couldn't lay a finger on him until he had completely worn them down and when tempers flared and they attacked him in frustration the game would end swiftly with the loser falling and, if he was smart, not getting back up. Occasionally Jim would engage the junior officers in fighting styles from the orient he had mastered, but his lessons flustered them and he found himself one day without anyone to teach or fight. I jumped down from my lofty perch and offered myself as a student.  
  
"No, Tiger Lily." He shook his head as he put back on his shirt. "You're much to smart to need to fight a person physically. You'll do better using your mind."  
  
I stood straight. "You told the men that this marital art makes you use your mind and body."  
  
He chuckled. "It's "martial" not "marital" and it does. But it is an art taught to men to help keep smart women safe."   
  
"Joan of Arc and Boadicca commanded armies and fought!" I argued.  
  
"In a different time Jennifer." he said using my given name. "Not today."  
  
"Jim?" I asked quietly as I walked with him back to the house. "What happens to women in war?"  
  
He stopped and looked at me strangely. I had startled him. "No one will ever hurt you Tiger Lily. They'd have to go through me first. Understand?"  
  
I smiled and nodded. Then we raced to the house and he let me beat him though he insisted I won fair.  
  
  
  
Those two weeks flew too swiftly and I wept bitterly after Jim left. Mother went back to worrying about Poppa and Patrick and I was left to my own again. But with every letter I wrote to my brother and father I would write a letter to Jim. I could tell him things I could tell no one else and I think he understood. He wrote back sometimes, (war being very difficult on mail delivery) and his letters always made my spirits soar.  
  
I never really thought about the cost of war, other then in the time spent separated from the ones you love. Battles in history seem so glorious and heroic. Poems are written of the honor and excitement of war. I considered the war, at most, inconvenient. That it would be best when the war was won and my brother, father and Jim would all come back heroes.  
  
But when the letter was delivered to my mother to let her know my brother had died, I got my first taste of the reality of war. And when my mother, always a woman of delicate health, died two days later from the shock, I understood part of the price women paid in war. I wrote of mine and Poppa's loss. With Poppa still gone, Miss Eddy, the housekeeper, kept the estate running and she and Mr. Lowry, the Foreman, made the funeral arrangements. With everyone immersed in their work and grief, I felt numb with sadness and worry for Jim and Poppa. Poppa wrote to tell me that he wished so much to be with me, but he was more determined then ever to see this war done and that his men couldn't be without him at the time. Part of me knew he was facing his grief by immersing himself in the war more deeply, but it hurt. I faced the funeral of my family alone.  
  
On the day of the funeral it rained and rained. The canopy over the graves was sodden and leaking and the few adults there simply wanted to be anyplace else. They didn't stay long and they didn't talk to me. Which was fine since I didn't feel much like talking.  
  
The evening wore on and when all had gone and the mess had been cleared away I stood alone in the library staring at the fire. I heard the door click and turned expecting to see Miss Eddy coming to ready me for bed.  
  
James West, shaking a wet oiled rain cover from his shoulders, stood in the doorframe. Mud covered his boots and his hair was clinging to his face and he looked at me with concern written clearly on his strong face. I didn't move. I was almost afraid he'd disappear. He walked over to me and tossed his wet coat aside and knelt down.   
  
I stared into his eyes and felt my heart contract painfully. Tears blurred my vision and a small mewling sound, like an injured kitten would make, escaped my lips. I threw myself into his arms and wept for the first time. For Mother...for Patrick...for poor Poppa...for Jim...for myself. I wept until I had exhausted myself into sleep. When I woke, I was in my bed and I came down stairs in the early dawn to find Jim sleeping in Poppa's armchair in front of the dying fire. I stood in bare feet beside the chair watching him. His face golden in the light, his hair dry and uncombed, his lashes brushing his cheeks. My small fingers rose to touch that cheek but I didn't. I touched his arm resting beside him and he stirred, opening one eye, then the other, and smiling slightly.   
  
"How are you feeling this morning Tiger Lily?"  
  
"Sad...but not so lonely now." I was shaky and I realized now I hadn't eaten much in the last few days. Oh how pale I must look under my freckles. Jim seemed to read my mind.  
  
"Let's go get something from the kitchen." He got up and looked at my feet. "Slippers first." I ran back up the stairs and when I came back in robe and slippers Jim was in the kitchen stoking the stove and making batter for griddle cakes. I helped. I needed to...I found one thing James West couldn't do well. Cook. But he seemed to like trying. Miss Eddy would later have a fit at the way we left the kitchen, but it was nice not to think of the war or my loss even if only for an hour or so.  
  
As we ate I got up the courage to ask how he had decided to come.  
  
"Your Father and General Grant are very busy right now. I know your Father wanted to be here for you Tiger. He really did. I asked permission to come in his place." He smiled and took a bite of cake with honey.  
  
"But you rode so far...just for me?"  
  
"I've got a good horse, remember?" He looked at me and his voice was soft and warm. "I wanted to come. I was...worried."  
  
"About me?"  
  
"You're worth worrying about Tiger Lily." He looked sad. "I wish I could stay longer. I have to leave tonight."  
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The day ended in a blur. I held onto Jim's neck and he carried me out to where the stable boy had his horse ready for him. "I have to go Tiger...I'm sorry."  
  
"If you go, you'll die!" I cried finally. I blurted out the worry that had plagued me since he told me he would have to go again. I felt my heart breaking. "If Poppa and you die, I'll be alone."  
  
His eyes looked sad as he smiled. "I don't plan on dying. I'll try really hard not to, and I'll keep an eye on your father Tiger." He lowered me to the ground. "You're a big girl so I won't lie and say it won't happen. But I'll do my best and that's a promise. That's all I can do." I trusted Jim never to lie to me. It was a hard truth to hear but his promise softened it.  
  
He kissed my cheek and I fought not to become hysterical. I wouldn't crumble. He wouldn't want that.  
  
As he swung up onto his horse I told him to tell Poppa I loved him and he said he would and he started to ride down the lane. I stood for a moment and then I called out to him in a breathless rush.  
  
"I Love You Jim!"  
  
I saw his horse draw up and turn and he looked at me from its back and waved and smiled  
bright as the morning sun.   
  
"I love you too Tiger Lily!" and he turned and rode away.  
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He kept his word. He lived and I learned he saved my father's life on the battlefield carrying him to safety after he was felled by a rifle shot. Father had a limp after that, but I had my father back. I grew, and James West and I continued to write each other. He had become a Major after the war and after our dear president was killed by an assassin's callous evil he wrote me of his change in work. He was being trained to help our nation in more personal battles. His work was still dangerous and I didn't like that, but I never said that to him. He did what he had to. While I was schooled, and with my new responsibilities as the Hostess of our estate pressing me, and Jim's new work our letters were our only communication for many years.  
  
So I was surprised when just before my 16th birthday he wrote back to me to say he would be coming to the ball my father was holding to court backers for his run for Governor.  
  
My father and I discovered to our delight that I had a keen head for numbers and organization. Before my 13th Birthday I had taken over the day-to-day operation of the estate and by the time of my 15th Birthday I was recognized around town as my father's business representative for our local concerns. Without Patrick, father focused my education into preparation for handling our business dealings without him. But most of this training and trust came through proxy as my father, though he loved me, had never managed to find home a comfortable place to be.   
  
I was now frantic. I delegated as much as I dared in the planning of the ball. I needed time to ready myself as well. I stood in front of mirrors while seamstresses fitted and measured me and clucked at my gangliness. I was taller now. Almost as tall as Jim, and my red hair was still too curly, but was deepening in color. My freckles had faded and all my teeth had luckily filled in straight. My neck, though, was too long and my arms were also, and my eyelashes around my green eyes were too light, but color would help them. My skin, because of the summer wasn't pale, nor had it burnt either and it was clear and clean. My face was longer now. Oval. I often caught father looking at me sometimes only to comment how much I looked like mother at a certain angle. But I hated my lips which were, unfashionably, too full. And my nose was a tad too pointy on the end and I bit my nails when I was nervous. I was certain that the ball would be successful whilst I would be a complete disaster.  
  
Everything had to be perfect. I wanted everything to be perfect. I wanted so badly for Jim to see how I'd grown. I wanted to be a Lady, as I had never wanted anything more in my life. I wanted him to see me as a young woman and not the child who followed him around.  
  
The night of the ball had arrived with the gardens of our estate lit with lanterns and torches. Floating lanterns glowed in the fountain pool and the ballroom was hung with crystal and gold foil reflecting the summer's warm throughout. I greeted our guests as they arrived. and smiled but kept my eyes searching the faces for the one I most wanted to see. My father noting my nervousness stopped to comfort me.  
  
"You're doing lovely dear....just slow down....take your time...your mother would be proud." He gentled, completely unaware of my true concerns, but it was a sweet gesture and I smiled at him and stood on tiptoes to kiss his cheek.  
  
"Do you have one of those for me?"  
  
I whirled and almost fell. Jim stood in front of me, handsome in a black suit of a daring cut. Without tails. And white ruff at the neck and a stickpin and links and watch chain of gold. Not the Army uniform I still expected to see...I took a breath and held it. It was impossible to believe he could be even more handsome then just 5 1/2 years before. But he was.  
  
Then I noticed he was staring at me. His eyes examined me in the way they do when you know he is seeing everything. I shifted nervously. The gown I had designed, had been very deliberate to this meeting. In deep orange silk with paler orange organdy petals brushed with black dye to mimic nature's design overlaying the dress was meant to invoke the flower near the creek. My hair was caught up high on my head and twined with black silk ribbon and one bloom and the bodice was modest yet off the shoulder trimmed in black lace. My gloves were black and to my elbows and a single gold chain circled my neck. I felt a blush rise under my tan and I looked at the floor.   
  
"You are beautiful Tiger Lily." he said it sincerely. Perhaps I imagined the surprised touch of awe I noted. I looked up and felt the smile on my face broaden. He was smiling back his dimples deepening, his eyes bright, his head tilted slightly. I felt such joy.   
  
I leaned forward and kissed his cheek as I did as a child and he kissed mine and I felt a rush of desire in me that as a child I never could have named or described. His lips felt so warm and soft and I wanted so much to have them on mine.   
  
A taller, dark haired man stepped along side Jim and distracted his examination of me. He was a handsome man maybe 10 years Jim's senior with black hair and a broad smiling face. He had incredibly dark eyes which possessed the same alertness as Jim's but with a more outgoing and flamboyant twinkle to them. He had the look of a showman about him and as I learned later this impression was absolutely correct.   
  
"Aren't you going to introduce me to the lovely young lady Jim?"  
  
James West grinned and made a sweeping gesture toward me. "Artie...This is Tige...I mean Jennifer Lassiter. Jenny this is Artemus Gordon, my partner and friend."  
  
Mr. Gordon grinned at James conspiratorially then lifted my hand gallantly to his lips. "This can't be the little girl you were telling me about Jim. If that's the case I'm going to be shaking the trees around here before we leave!"  
  
I felt the blush reach my roots and Artemus Gordon appeared delighted by this reaction to his obvious charm. "Will you please do me the pleasure of saving me a place on your dance card?"  
  
I curtsied and giggled. "Certainly sir." But Jim stepped in front of him.  
  
"Aw...No. Artie I do believe I'll have the first dance." And nodding toward me, he extended his arm much the way he had to escort me to dinner on the day we met so long ago, and I took it, shaking slightly, and he led me toward the dance floor.  
  
James West placed a hand on my waist and held my hand with a feather light touch and swept me onto the floor while my father and Mr. Gordon watched smiling. James looked at my dress as we moved and he shook his head slowly and whistled under his breath. "Tiger Lily...THAT is a stunning gown. And you look so grown up in it. You're turning into a beautiful young woman."  
  
"I am grown up." I said perhaps a little petulantly. "I do much of Popp..I mean Father's business now in town and I organized the ball." Didn't he see that I WAS a grown up now? He smiled at me, but those eyes, that saw so much, still saw a child, he was determined to see me as the 9 year old in the tree.   
  
"Of course you are Tiger. I'm amazed by all you've done. Your father and I are really proud of you. When you're older you're going to make some boy really lucky." He said. Condescending, our dance was bittersweet. I was held in his arms, dressed as a lady, but I wasn't HIS lady. Our kisses would be familial, our hugs passionless...I smiled and danced, but my heart was breaking.   
  
The evening went on and I danced with the charming Mr. Gordon who was far more perceptive then James when it came to matters of the heart it seemed. My eyes wandered in the dance. Searching and finding James over, and over, in flirtatious conversation with vapid, beautiful women. Dancing with them with a more urgent closeness and his lips touching their ears in whispered conversation that sent the ladies into blushing, sultry giggles.  
  
"Jim Boy has a way with the ladies doesn't he?" Mr. Gordon broke into my thoughts.  
  
"I don't know what you mean Mr. Gordon." I smiled back at him uncertainly, pulling my eyes away from Jim as he disappeared with a pretty blonde.   
  
"It's Artie...please." He corrected. "And I meant Jim has a way of attracting attention from ladies. You didn't notice?" He sighed and chuckled softly. "You don't find pants that tight unless you pay the tailor a hefty sum to forget his craft." I looked at Artie's face, a mask of smiling innocence, in shock, and felt a rush of blood to my face that must have made me look like a ripe tomato. "Awwwwww....you HAVE noticed!" he chuckled softly...sympathetically.   
  
I burst out with a quick laugh, which I suppressed. I felt myself sway lighter in the tall man's arms and my mood rise slightly. "Um...Mr....ummm Artie?  
  
Mr. Gordon fixed me with his undivided attention. "Yes Jennifer?"  
  
"Does James have lots of lady friends?"   
  
"Ohhhhh Yes!" he answered emphatically.  
  
"Serious friends?" I asked dreading the answer.  
  
He looked at me kindly. "No dear. Jim isn't meant for serious lady friends. I'm not sure why. Perhaps because our work is so dangerous he wouldn't want anyone worrying about him....but I think that, mostly, he just wasn't made for finding a person he could settle down for." My face must have registered my disappointment because his eyes crinkled sympathetically. "Jim is...Jim. He doesn't mean to make things difficult with women...and I don't think he really knows he's doing it. It's best just to be his friend and let him be who he is." He looked at me meaningfully. "Do you understand?"  
  
I nodded and he pulled me closer, finishing the dance in the hug I think he knew I needed. Artemus Gordon is a kind, kind man. I wonder if James knows how lucky he is to have him as a friend?  
  
I didn't get long to rest and think after Artie's dance. Before we could leave the dance floor a business associate of my father's by the name of Clark Delcrest asked to dance. Artie transferred me graciously to Mr. Delcrest's arms and went to the punch bowl.  
  
Clark Delcrest was about Mr. Gordon's age. A touch of silver at the temples and had an aristocratic bearing and features. He was well known as bit of a rake and gambler. The gambling making it difficult to determine his wealth, but it was estimated by Father that he was continually on the verge of one collapse or another, yet had the knack of pulling his dealings from the edge time, and time again. I tried not to think about James and we danced. His dancing was oddly aggressive. Not so much being guided around the floor as pushed. His hand held me firmly and I looked up at him and saw something that made me feel funny inside. He had a handsome face. Dark...sharp featured. A pencil thin mustache impeccably groomed over thin, seductive lips. He was very tall. Maybe 6'3 and he seemed to know the effect his height and looks had on me. His eyes were dark. And while we danced he never took them off my face. I felt his hand tighten around me and I felt almost breathless. This was a man...older then James...yet he was looking at me like a woman. There was nothing paternal or friendly in his gaze. His lips opened in a wolfish smile over white teeth and I had the uneasy delight of realizing that this man was trying to seduce me. My disappointment in finding James unwilling to see me as a woman felt a momentary focus. This man did see a woman. As the music died I realized after a startled moment that we were still dancing, but that we were outside in the lantern lit garden.  
  
"You dance beautifully Miss Lassiter." He bowed to me, kissing my fingers, his lips lingering on them, as he looked up from his bow at my wide eyes. He stood and looked in the direction of my father's stables. "I hear your father has acquired a new stallion from a very rare Arabian racing line. Could I perhaps see him? I would be interested in buying a colt produced by such a magnificent beast." As he said this he stepped close to me so that his elbow brushed me as he extended it. I took it without thinking and he guided me toward the stables. My mind seemed to numb. Why was I with him? How was he guiding me so effortlessly? I was intrigued. I almost could forget Jim and the ball and everything else for the thrill I felt walking in the dark with this handsome man.  
  
When we reached the stable and went inside it was suddenly not lost on me that Clark Delcrest was closing the door behind us. It was a definite breach in manners. An unescorted female behind closed doors with a well known rake was enough to ruin reputations and still he dared and I said nothing. I showed him the stabled stallion and as I watched the horse I felt Mr. Delcrest standing close behind me. I felt a nervous twinge. His hands on either side of me leaning on the stable gate. I started to feel him press against my back and I stiffened. Then I felt his breath hot on my neck and his lips kiss the top of my shoulder. I jumped and turned only to find his face inches from mine and his eyes lost in shadow.   
  
"We better go Mr. Delcrest."  
  
"Clark." He urged.  
  
"Father will be worried." I laughed nervously. "I need to get back."  
  
"Your father is in his library with stuffy old men discussing politics and smoking cigars" he grinned. "It's just you and I..."  
  
He leaned in and kissed my neck and I felt a flushed and confused. I tried to duck under his arms but he grabbed my upper arms suddenly and pulled me close to him. I gasped and looked up.   
  
"You're very beautiful you know?" he whispered to me. "I would court you if you let me. Maybe even marry you."   
  
I felt a burst of anger. Marry me? What talk was this? Then it dawned on me in an instant. "Is your business in that much trouble?" I couldn't believe I had found the courage to ask. "No debts to call in, or people from whom you can borrow now?"  
  
He pulled back just a hair and smiled. "You are a smart little thing aren't you? All work and no play?" He chuckled and his grip tightened. "Yes...I am having some business troubles. And a marriage into a nice solvent family would help immensely."  
  
"And why do you think I'd marry you?" I was shaking. I was afraid and I hated feeling so out of my depth.  
  
"Rumors can ruin a girl." He purred. "I have friends that will vouch that they saw you shamelessly kissing me in the gardens and lead me here in the stables and close the doors without a chaperone."  
  
I looked around fearfully and tried to pull out of his grip.  
  
"I'm willing to bet your father would prefer an honorable marriage to trying to run a political career and business with a slut for a daughter the talk of the town." He seemed to take pleasure in my gasp of shocked outrage at his coarseness.  
  
"Besides," he pushed. "I think you like this. I think you want a man to hold you and kiss you. And make love to you."  
  
I was pulled against him hard and his arms held me to him in a crushing embrace. One hand held my head as his lips forced themselves on mine. Terror welled up in me as his tongue pushed itself into my crying mouth and I bit down. He pushed me backwards against the gate and smacked me hard with the back of his hand. I fell and reached up for my lip, which was bleeding.  
  
As he reached down to grab my hair I punched upward just missing his groin with my fist and he snarled in a rage and yanked me to my feet and covered my mouth with his hand and carried me into an empty stall. Inside he fell on me knocking the breath from me with the impact. I felt faint and numb. I felt his hand on my breast through the fabric of my dress and I tried to kick upwards but the quarters were too close and my right arm was pinned under me painfully and my left hand struggled to push him off. In his desire to raise my skirts his hand moved on my mouth and I was able to get his finger in my teeth and I bit him hard. Extracting his finger from my savage bite with a startled cry, I screamed once and I feared not loudly enough to be heard over the party in the main house. His hand returned to my mouth and his other hand was raising my skirt again.   
  
I felt a hopelessness engulf me and hated myself for that feeling. I wasn't a lady...I wasn't a warrior queen or a saint or a pirate. I was helpless and scared and without any means to stop what was happening. I felt my vision narrow and desperately hoped I would fall unconscious and spare myself what every woman fears but in tender years cannot perhaps name.  
  
Then I felt a lightness as breath returned to me. I opened my eyes and saw Delcrest flying backwards away from me. Pulled backwards, flailing like a puppet on a string, growling in frustration. I struggled to pull myself back against the stall's far wall as I watched James West pull my attacker to standing and deliver blow after blow to his chin and body. Delcrest hit the stable's wall with a jarring force but managed to pull a knife from his boot and lunge at Jim with dangerous swiftness. Jim stood and allowed the charge, turning his body at the last possible moment and reaching for the knife holding hand as Delcrest's body hurled past him carried by an unstoppable momentum. I heard a snapping and saw the knife drop into the straw as Jim wrenched the offending limb back and twisted it minutely. Delcrest screamed and picked himself up and instead of lunging again plowed past Jim and out the open stable door.   
  
Jim wavered momentarily. The desire to pursue Delcrest written in his taut frame. Instead he ran to the door and called to his friend Artemus Gordon. Then turning back inside he ran to where I sat crumpled in the stall and fell to his knees next to me. I winced when he touched my arm and he pulled back uncertain. There was fear in his eyes and I think it mimicked mine. I didn't move as he pulled out a handkerchief and daubed at the blood on my lips. I was staring at Jim...numb...uncomprehending for a few moments. I remember thinking I was imagining him several times. Wondering if this was a dream and expecting he would disappear and Clark Delcrest would appear in his place before me.  
  
Then Mr. Gordon skidded to a halt holding the door of the stall I was in and going wide eyed as my gaze wandered up to his face.  
  
"Oh Dear God!" he exclaimed under his breath and started forward. "Is she all right?"  
  
Jim turned. "Artie...the man who attacked her ran for the woods. His arm is broken. Get him...he looks like he was a guest."  
  
"Delcrest..." I heard myself mutter. James turned back to me as though surprised I could speak.  
  
"Right!" answered Artie tearing his eyes from mine and running for the door and the woods beyond.  
  
Jim looked me over and I saw his hand shake slightly as he brushed a strand of hair from my face. I flinched and he stopped the gesture as though afraid to frighten me further. I was becoming more aware of what was going on, and I was becoming angry. At myself for the situation I placed myself in...at Delcrest for hurting me...at my weakness...my inadequacies. But Jim was there and I focused on him. To my great shame I turned on him.  
  
My voice barely a whisper. "I asked you what happened to women in war once." My eyes never left his face. "I asked you to teach me to fight once and you said no one would hurt me." My voice was becoming stronger. I saw his face become uncertain. His brow knit together. "You said I didn't need to know how to fight."  
  
"You're going to be all right Tiger....You're just upset.." he went to put his arm around me.  
  
"Don't touch me!" Tears were falling now. "Don't touch me...you aren't here every day. I'm alone almost all the time and you knew what happens to women alone!" I was trembling uncontrollably. I pulled a torn scrap of fabric up to my chest and held it there. "This is what happens and I couldn't fight back because I didn't know how!" Jim looked stricken. His face grim and his eyes hurt. I didn't care how unfair I was being...I was angry and scared and I wanted someone to feel as badly as I did and he was my target. Maybe he knew this and this was why he said nothing...didn't answer my accusations. I stopped talking and started sobbing and he lifted me and I felt him walking back toward the house with me ignoring the gasps and stares.   
  
I remember the doctor sedating me, saying I'd be okay and just needed a good night's sleep. I remember my father's voice raised in fear and anger. I heard Artemus Gordon report that Delcrest had gotten away. I remember my father and Jim in raised voices and disagreement. I remember James beside my bed and his face fuzzy in my sight...his lips set tight and his face stretched and hard. He bent his head to my ear. "Meet me in the woods after dinner tomorrow. Wear pants. You hear?"  
  
I nodded slowly and fell to sleep, curiosity filling my dreams.   
  
  
  
  
I was sore and my mouth hurt...a bruise darkening my swollen lip. But I didn't think about it. I ran, dressed in my brother's cast-offs like I had as a small child to my hiding place in the woods. When I got there I saw a space flat and clear near the creek and pads of stuffed canvas lying in the center of it in a large square. I walked to the edge of the square and looked around. Then I saw movement to my right and spun. Jim stepped out from under a tree limbs with his hands raised in front of him. His face was grim and set.  
  
I felt a pang of guilt and started to apologize for my words the night before.   
  
"Jim....I'm sorry about what I said."  
  
He cocked his head. His voice was low and serious. "You were right."  
  
I blinked. "I was?"  
  
"I told you once I wouldn't lie to you." He crossed his arms over his chest. "I would hope you never would get hurt. I would do my best to prevent it if I could." He looked away briefly and took a deep breath before holding my gaze. "But the fact is you are alone a lot and women left on their own get hurt. Are raped. Killed."   
  
I felt my breath catch.  
  
"Jim...stop. You're scaring her." Artie stepped out of the shadows of my old fort and looked at me with a small smile.  
  
"No Artie...it's the truth." His eyes sought mine again. "Isn't it?"  
  
I nodded. The word "rape" wasn't even whispered by the doctor. By no one. Even when the rumors would later surface for a time the rumor mongers wouldn't allow themselves the ugliness of that word. But it was the right one and I nodded numbly.  
  
Jim took his coat off and handed it to Artemus Gordon and rolled up his shirt sleeves and unbuttoned his collar.  
  
"You're going to learn how to fight."  
  
Artemus Gordon looked as shocked as I was, but when he looked ready to object the seriousness of Jim's expression seemed to hush him. I was suddenly uncertain. My legs moved me where my mind didn't and I entered the center of the padded square.  
  
"I'm going to teach you...one whine...one complaint and I stop and that's it. Understand?"  
  
I nodded. Then he circled me. My eyes followed him.   
  
"Come at me like you were going to punch me." I hesitated, and he barked. "Do It Now!"  
  
I rushed him. He spun and grabbed my upper arm and turned it. I felt my body lurch forward to avoid pain shooting through the grabbed limb and flipped. I opened my eyes to see Jim standing over me reaching his hand down to help me up. I said nothing. I got up and dusted myself off in a daze. "Show me." I was breathless...confused. I wasn't going to be helpless again if I could ever help it. I wasn't going to let this opportunity pass. I would learn.  
  
The day ended with Jim throwing me over and over. I had more bruises from learning to protect myself, then from my attack.   
  
I didn't complain. I didn't argue or cry out. I refused to weep. I think I surprised Jim and Artie both. The last throw found me on my back again and I lay still with my eyes shut. Jim leaned over me and took my hand. As I rose I gripped his hand and rolled backwards and planted my foot in his chest during my roll back, and was shocked to see Jim fly over my head and land behind me with a thud. I rolled over and leapt to my feet stumbling back staring. I heard a staccato burst of laughter as Artie doubled over. I put my hands over my mouth and waited for Jim to move. He rolled onto his stomach after a second and lifted his head. For the first time that evening he smiled at me.   
  
"That's my Tiger Lily!"  
  
I looked between Jim and Artie and sank to the ground with a smile. I giggled for a moment but found the giggles turning into ragged sobs. I closed my eyes tightly and balled up my fists and pounded the padded mats over and over.  
  
A hand grabbed my flailing fist and brought it down gently to my lap and an arm went around my shoulders and I leaned against Jim and cried. A hand touched my head and I knew Artie was there as well. I felt sheltered. When I was calmer I opened my eyes stared at my hands.  
  
"I'm sorry about last night Jim." I breathed against his shoulder. "I was scared and angry and you were closest." I couldn't tell him yet that as a jealous teen I had followed the first man who had tried to seduce me. I was too embarrassed.   
  
"That's Okay Kid. I figured as much."  
  
There it was again. Kid. It's what he still saw me as even after last night. I felt my heart clench, but bit back the tears this time. For now it was enough to have him holding me. To have him teaching me something I know he had never taught another woman. I looked at Artie and saw him watching me sadly and I looked away. Jim could love me. Someday maybe. If I learned. If I was strong. If I tried harder. I closed my eyes.  
  
They stayed for almost a week. To my father they stayed simply to aid in the search for Clark Delcrest...but I knew differently. The day before they left I met them in the woods for what I dreaded would be my final lesson in self defense. We had only scratched the surface and each day that passed and the more I learned under Jim's tutelage only showed me how much I didn't know. I feared being half taught almost as much as being untaught. I was stretching as James and my chaperone, Artie, approached and I knew from the sound of their approach they weren't alone and feared my father had found out about our lessons. Then I recognized the familiar face of a small, elderly oriental man and looked quizzically at Jim and Artie. Why would they bring Lu Chi, the launderer, to our lesson?  
  
"Artie and I have to leave tonight," Jim answered my unasked question. "And I've been searching for someone to train you." He looked at me pointedly. "And that hasn't been easy."  
  
"Because no one wants to train a girl?" I surmised.  
  
"Partly." Jim continued. "Partly because they don't want to cross your father...get caught teaching you in secret. And partly because I couldn't find anyone I thought could teach you well enough."  
  
Artie continued the story. "This morning Master Lu presented himself to us. He had heard of our inquiries and since he already worked here in the laundry he knew what had happened at the ball and offered his services."  
  
Jim rubbed the back of his head and smiled sidelong at the small, frail looking old man. "And don't let his looks fool you...he knows what he's doing." The old man bowed low at the compliment. "It seems that before he left China he was a Master of several disciplines and studied and practiced them all over the orient. And since he is already here all you have to do is pay him extra in the laundry allowance and no questions asked." Jim raised his hands awaiting applause and I obliged. Then stepping up to Master Lu I bowed deeply to him in the manner of the oriental as Jim had taught me a student did for a teacher. Master Lu examined me closely without ever seeming to move his eyes. Without movement of any kind and I knew this wasn't simply a man I was hiring for a job. I was the one being hired...being considered. I was the one that Master Lu would decide to accept or reject as a student and I waited nervously, but schooled my face not to show just how nervous I actually was.   
  
Then Master Lu bowed to me. Not as deeply, as befits a teacher, and our lesson began. James was correct. I saw this tiny, fragile looking oldster toss James West like he was a bag of flour off a grocery wagon time after time. I saw him lock Artie in holds consisting of one hand and the application of certain kinds of pressure. Apply blows to the face and stomach, that if he hadn't the incredible control that he did, would shatter bone, but didn't, as he pulled the punch at the exact moment. This teacher was going to make James West's lessons seem like a child's Spelling book compared to Shakespeare. The expression of an almost envious awe on Jim's face made it obvious he had found a teacher he would have willingly studied under. I was honored by this, and determined to prove myself worthy.  
  
I said goodbye to James West that night at the train station whilst Master Lu waited with our horses.  
  
"I have to make some changes Jim." I was nervous. "And father isn't going to be pleased with them."  
  
Jim nodded. "Finding it hard being the kind of Lady he wants you to be?"  
  
I laughed. "Yes...but can I be any other kind and still be a lady?"  
  
"What do you think?" he said squeezing my hand.  
  
"I think I need to try."  
  
"Don't try to be ordinary Tiger Lily...remember that."   
  
He leaned over to kiss my cheek and I turned boldly and his warm, soft lips touched mine. He pulled back as though lightening had struck him and I felt my eyes widen at my audacity and I turned and fled. I turned in my saddle to see him standing on the platform watching me. Confusion creased his forehead. Could he really be so blind about how I felt? I turned my horse and galloped after Master Lu.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The changes weren't easy for Poppa. But I was surprised to find he resisted them little. He seemed to put my eccentricities down to my experience in the stable and allowed me my space.   
  
I had become more independent. I was no longer willing to keep my mouth shut and follow blindly or say nothing to keep the peace. My father was busy now as a politician and I ran our business investments and holdings solely. I think partly the reason he let me have free rein was he had found out that it had sharpened my business senses. And while as a woman I could not vote, even for him, I did control the voting in our company and had equal say in contracts and direction. At 18 I was the youngest person and only woman I knew of in such a position of authority. But besides my father there was only one person to whom I bowed as a greater authority. My Master Lu. The old chinaman was wizened and his hands wrinkled and raw from lye and starch, but he was in complete control of my education and in more then just martial defenses. I was surprised to learn he was 75 years old for one thing. He had a wiry energy that mocked his age and made me feel positively lazy by comparison. And he knew so much about so many things. Business...math...horses...battle...spirituality...love. I am humbled to have known him. He was an exacting taskmaster. My body bore bruises from our training that made my adventures as a child seem pale by.  
  
Perhaps the hardest change for my father to endure...and the town to accept...was my change in dress. I had made very careful choices in the tailoring of my outfits so as to maintain a feminine cut but I now wore utilitarian, simple clothes made for movement and comfort. Pants. Boots. Tailored shirts, vests and jackets. Hats were of a crisp tailored cowboy variety...no bonnets and try as he might I would not be persuaded to wear skirts.  
  
But Master Lu understood my need for this dress. Understood my desire to be prepared for anything. I fear sometimes it cost us business and said as much to Master Lu.   
  
"And do you like these people with great money who disapprove of how you live?"  
  
"No Master...but they are powerful people who could help our business."  
  
Master Lu cocked an eyebrow at me. "Respect is more powerful in business then money. If you do not respect those you work with all the money you have will not help your business grow. But a partner who respects you and let's you be who you must be will find ways to make a business grow that will surprise you."  
  
It was true. If they couldn't accept me, they didn't matter in business. Or in my life. Other women avoided me....most men were intimidated, or upset by my independent nature. Father was gone...as always, on government work. I did not court and I don't think a man in the state even thought to court me. It wasn't because I was ugly....I had grown out of my awkwardness and into my body. I was lean and fit and quick, with auburn hair to my waist and I liked the way I looked. Yet my social circle was Master Lu, and my letters to Jim. After our last parting Jim's letters came fewer, and farther apart. And that hurt. I was terribly lonely, and I feared I had frightened him into keeping a distance between us.   
  
When Master Lu died 3 days after my 19th birthday I wrote James to tell him I was taking his ashes with me to San Francisco for his family to inter them. I was surprised when James agreed to meet my train and escort me to Master Lu's family.   
  
When my train reached the small water stop of Horse Head in Nevada territory I took the opportunity to stretch and went to the local saloon to buy a drink of Sassafras. The rough looking men in the saloon turned as I entered, but I was used to this by now and let them get their staring over with. As I drank my tea I saw a movement on the landing above me and turned slightly to see. I saw a man turn and walk into a room and though I didn't see his face, I felt uncomfortable. I finished my drink and ordered another and as I drank it the bartender looked at me nervously, his eyes flickering above my head at the landing and I decided to heed my unease and got up to leave. Throwing coin down for the drinks, I turned and fell. I opened my eyes and the room swam over my head. I realized my drink had been poisoned, for some reason, and a stab of fear crawled through my stomach when a familiar face came into view. Clark Delcrest. I closed my eyes and sank into darkness.  
  
  
When I woke I was locked in a cell in the town jail. The deputy looked me over from outside and laughed.   
  
"Thought you'd sleep the week away." He turned to a fat rough leaning against the wall. "Tell him she's awake."  
  
"Why am I here?" I demanded.  
  
"The boss thinks you're worth some money pretty lady."  
  
I tried to stand and got up too quickly and fell on my rear to the guffaws of my jailer. I pulled myself onto the cot again and waited for my balance to return. I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate on the disciplines taught to me by my Master. Then my meditations were interrupted by a voice that made me shake inside and I knew it was for such an encounter I had trained and wondered if I were up to it.  
  
"Hello Jennifer." His voice was smooth...cold. "Long time, no see."  
  
I opened my eyes slowly. Delcrest hadn't aged the last few years very well. His hair was dusty with gray and his mustache fuller. Lines creased his face and bad living showed in his heavier frame and clothes. I tried to keep my gaze neutral. My emotions in check. "You left town quickly Clark...why? Oh...and has your arm healed nicely?"  
  
I had the pleasure of seeing him twitch slightly and glance at the arm James broke in the barn years before. But he recovered his composure. "Well yes...I did have to make a hasty retreat. But fortune smiled on me here Jennifer. The saloon...Hotel...businesses...the sheriff here in Horse Head...all mine." He leaned on the bars and caressed them in a way that sickened me while he spoke. "Never in a million years did I hope to find you here. Makes you almost believe in destiny doesn't it?"  
  
"If you're doing so well then why keep me here?"   
  
Delcrest looked at me with dark hard eyes. "This town may be mine, dearest, but it isn't my style. You made me lose that part of my life. You're going to get it back for me." I fought hard not to react. "I know what you're worth, and I know that you hold the purse strings for the most part. Shrewd little minx that you are, I know you'll be able to filter a great deal of that to me in order to leave in one piece." He licked his lips and I grew cold inside. "Or if you refuse, your father will."  
  
"You're insane. You won't get a dime from me and if you telegraph my father with a ransom demand he will have troops in here so fast...."  
  
"NO! he grabbed the bars tight. "NO...you will be dead if that happens so you'd best not wish it so!" He calmed himself and smiled. "Besides...no one knows you're here. I know you were traveling alone. By the time you're missed you could starve in here...die of thirst. A little fasting should make you receptive to making banking transfer arrangements. I wouldn't delay too long my dear...you're far too pretty to die like that."  
  
Then he turned on his heel and stalked out.  
  
I waited until I was alone to tremble. I had trained so hard only to be trapped like this. But I wasn't without hope. James would be looking for me the moment he realized I was not on the train but my bags and Master Lu's ashes still were. He would search...question..and know where I was and while he could get here quicker and more stealthily then any troop to rescue me. I cringed. As fearful as I was of Delcrest and his men I was most disturbed by the idea of being "rescued", once again, like the hapless female I had become and detested most. Damsel in Distress, instead of Pirate Queen once more. I growled under my breath and buried my face in my hands.   
  
No use sitting about. I looked around. A stone basin on a table in the center held water and under my bunk was a battered tin cup left neglected. Standing, I picked it up and dusted it out as best I could. Then I filled it and hid it, carefully, under a wad of blanket and pillow. Then I drank as much of the basin as I could, and none too soon, since the Sheriff entered with an armed deputy to remove the basin on Delcrest's orders. What I had now was what I had to survive on until I could either think of a way out or be rescued.  
  
Four days into my captivity I was light headed and tired. My hidden water was almost gone and my throat was raspy. I thought I was hallucinating when James arrived. The door to the Jail slammed against the wall and Artie stood with James. No...Supporting James! I leapt to my feet and rushed my bars. Artie was pushed and stumbled forward carrying Jim with him. Three men with guns leveled followed them and the sheriff opened the cell next to mine and shoved Artemus Gordon forward. He dragged Jim to the cot and laid him on it and looked around.   
  
"Jennifer...are you all right?" He looked me over with an appraising eye and I nodded tensely. My eyes were focused on James who lay still on the cot blood matting the back of his hair and sticking his head to the pillow. I wanted to scream. His face was ashen and slack and I feared, desperately feared, he was dead. My voice trembled out of me dryly. "Jim..no..."  
  
Artie looked at me and shook his head. "He's alive Jenny. But he's hurt badly. We were making inquiries at the saloon when we were ambushed...he was clubbed hard with a rifle butt and they kicked the hell out of him when he was down." Artie stared at his friend. "I can't tell how bad it is though."   
  
I turned quickly and tore my blankets and shoved a swatch into the tin cup soaking up the last of my water and handed it to Artie through the bars. He smiled and took it, daubing at Jim's head and carefully probing for injuries. I tore my blanket further so Artie could wrap Jim's head and when I went back to the bars Artie handed me the blood soaked cloth and asked for more water.   
  
"That's all I had left Artie." I whispered hoarsely....apologetically. Artie looked past me and saw the place where the basin had once sat and the tin cup drying on the floor. Then he looked at me and I tried to wet dry lips.   
  
"What are they doing to you Jenny?" I looked at Artie and shrugged. "It's Clark Delcrest...he runs this town. And I think he's trying to starve me down."  
  
I knew the next question before he asked.  
  
"Four Days now...but I had the cup hidden and was rationing myself."  
  
Artie smiled. "Good girl."  
  
Then we both turned to see Jim stir.   
  
"Jim Boy? Jim?" Artie touched his shoulder and I knew it wasn't just a comforting gesture. Jim was a fighter who had been attacked. Artie placed that hand there to keep his friend from trying to launch himself off the bed and onto his feet. He had been right. Jim's eyes snapped open and he tried to rise, but he cried out and fell back. Artie's eyes lit with new worry. He was unused to seeing his friend express pain. The injury must be worse then he thought. I was trembling now...my training forgotten. I was going to lose the man I loved.  
  
Jim opened his eyes against the pain and struggled to focus his eyes. "Artie...where are we?"  
  
Artie leaned down. "In a jail cell Jim...but good news...we found Jennifer."  
  
"Tiger...Lil..." Jim's voice slurred.   
  
"Yes Jim...I'm here." I whispered urgently. "I'm here."  
  
"Safe?"   
  
"Yes." I said quickly and Artie turned and raised an eyebrow but didn't correct me. "Yes...I'm fine."  
  
"Good." Then he fell unconscious again.  
  
Artie covered his friend and stood and walked to the bars where I stood gripping them. He touched my white knuckled hands and looked at me seriously. "We need to find a way out. He needs a doctor. Now."  
  
I felt hollow...a doctor. It was all useless. All my training...all my business sense...and I couldn't help him.   
  
The door to the to the cell area opened and Artie and I turned in unison.   
  
Artie glared coldly at Delcrest, as if to shrivel him where he stood. The coward stood well back from the cell with the two men and he walked languidly to stand next to mine.   
  
"That man doesn't look at all well." he smiled tsking through his long white teeth. "I do believe he's dying."  
  
Artemus Gordon threw himself at the cell bars reaching one long arm through and causing Delcrest to step back further, to some satisfaction on my part. "If he does you'll be next!" shouted Artie.  
  
I was numb to most of the prodding and games Delcrest wanted to play. I stared at Jim. My mind searching for anything to hold on to. Some hope.  
  
"How much do you want?" My voice was flat, quiet. Artie stopped and swung away from the bars and back to Jim's side.   
  
Delcrest looked at me carefully. "What my dear?"  
  
"Stop the games." I said calmly...quietly. "How much do you want to get him a Doctor? Name your price."  
  
Artie was silent. Between money and Jim's life there was no contest. Jim. He left me to bargain. If I had to live as a pauper I would.   
  
"How much?" Delcrest was clearly savoring this. He leaned against the wall behind him and grinned like a cat. "How much for the life of the man who hurt me? Hunted me? Ran me out of my home and former life?" He leered. "How much for the life of the man who interrupted our tryst?"   
  
I felt my stomach tighten and saw Artie, out of the corner of my eye, lift his head.  
  
"Yes.." I growled low. "How much? What do you want? I'll give you anything you ask."  
  
Delcrest smiled at me. He reached my bars and looked between them. "I wonder how serious your offer is?" He ran the tip of his tongue over his lips, the hair of the backs of my arms prickled. "Shall we test it?" I felt myself step back a hair before I caught myself. I wasn't going to back down. But he'd seen my movement and grinned wider.  
  
"I suddenly find myself disinterested in your money Jennifer."   
  
Artie stood slowly  
  
"Jenny...don't even think it." His voice was harsh in my ears..urgent. "Jenny...Jenny look at me. Jenny he wouldn't want to live with that." Staring at Delcrest in disbelief and then at me. My face was held carefully impassive. I looked at Jim breathing shallowly and gray around the lips and felt my heart contract. Artie stepped up to my bars stiffly.  
  
He rounded on Delcrest. "Don't do this Delcrest. Take the money. Let her go!"  
  
"Mr. Gordon...if I remember correctly?" He turned his attention on Artemus. "Mr. Gordon...why would a man choose just half of what he can have?" He ran a finger over his mustache and I felt his eyes on me again. "No...I think I'd like it all now. Jenny dear...it's up to you. Say the word."  
  
I found my breathing matching Jim's in its shallow rise and fall. This decision seemed almost unreal. I tried to think logically. Jim needed a doctor now. By the time Artie could find a way to escape it might be too late, and if we did manage to escape how would we move Jim? Who could we find to help us? We would all be killed....I had no doubt of that.  
  
I turned my face from Jim's still form and Artie's pleading eyes. "Get him a Doctor first...NOW...and I'll go with you quietly."  
  
Delcrest nodded smugly, damp palms rubbing against his pant leg and he shot a look of triumph at Artemus Gordon and left.  
  
I sat on the bunk as far from Artie and James as I could and stared at the closed door. Artie tried to talk to me. But I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate on anything else. Artie argued that Jim wouldn't want to live knowing what I traded for him. Part of me thought that stupid. I knew, for a fact, James would give his life for a friend. Without hesitation. What I had agreed to was nothing in comparison to that. Nothing. I would live. Jim would live and we would all worry about the justice of it all later. If I could simply keep this in perspective I could handle it, but Artie was making it difficult.  
  
"Jim wouldn't want to know you...." he started again to my annoyance.   
  
"Then shut up!" I stood and advanced on the bars grabbing his upper arms through them. "Then shut up! He doesn't have to know. I'm buying time. For him....us. I can do this Artie."   
  
"You can fight him." Artie looked at me sternly. "You know how."  
  
"Death before dishonor, Artie? Go down fighting?" I smiled. "Not while Jim's still in danger. This will buy us time! I'll think about it all later." He looked prepared to argue some more, but I cut him off. "Artie...some fights are won by biding time and waiting for better conditions. Some battles are fought without muscle." It comforted me to think of Master Lu speaking through me. "Please don't make this harder on me...don't tell him. If you knew a better way I would do it. But he will die without help and we can't try escaping with a dying man." I looked at Artie solemnly. "And if he dies, neither of us would feel much like living." I saw the truth of that in Artie's silent stare.  
  
"What can I do to help you?" he asked with a note of despair edging his voice.   
  
I smiled as best I could and feared that it looked more like a corpse's rictus. "You could tell me what to expect." I attempted to joke.  
  
Artie looked at me, horrified.   
  
The door opened then and the sheriff shoved a man forward while the deputy leveled a gun at Artie. The small, fat, older man stumbled clutching the bag that tagged him as the doctor and was locked inside with James and Artemus. The doctor, though nervous, was blessed with a manner that allowed him to quickly turn his attentions to his patient and put aside what must have been a very distressing call. He asked for water and received it and went about dressing Jim's head wound and giving him medicines he said would reduce swelling and allow Jim to relax so that he would heal. Jim's breathing was still shallow, but coming more evenly now...and his face less pale and strained. He confirmed Artie's diagnosis and said they had been right to call for him. Jim had been very close to death. I breathed out slowly with relief and smiled at Artie. The doctor warned that Jim wasn't out of the woods yet. But that he was much improved by just the first visit. He would be back later to check on Jim, he promised.  
  
I laid down on my bunk and closed my. Until Delcrest came for me I would try to rest. Try to empty my mind. I asked Artie to keep watch for me. To warn me when he approached. I didn't want to have him come for me as a startled child. If I went through with this, it would be with some modicum of dignity. Delcrest wanted to see me humiliated...but that wasn't part of our bargain. I wasn't going to be the child in the stable.   
  
I was nudged out of fitful sleep by Artie's alert. The cells were dark and I sat up in the gloom and adjusted my hair and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. I turned to Artie before the door opened. "Don't make a scene. Please Artie. Don't give him that pleasure." I hissed under my breath.  
  
A lamp preceded Delcrest and the sheriff into the room, blinding me for a moment. I blinked against the light and stood slowly. I felt dizzy...but I believe that was due to lack of food more then nerves.   
  
Without a word Delcrest entered my cell and walked around me slowly. I stood still and stared straight ahead. He stopped behind me and raised his hand to my hair which still hung in a thick plait down my back and he undid my ribbon and plait. His hand in my hair made my skin crawl but I didn't react as he arranged my hair like an overgrown doll. I bless Artie for his rigid restraint at this time. I focused on him, on his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.  
  
I simply stared.  
  
The coward took my hand and placed an arm around my waist. It felt like a coiled snake around me. He led me out of my cell. I stopped and looked back at a Artie whose face was a mask of desperation and fury. "Don't worry about me. Take care of him."   
  
  
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I now understand the look on Artie's face when I asked him to tell me what to expect. I also understand now, that what happens between men and women in the bedroom in a loving context is totally different from what I experienced. But at the time I was shocked to discover just how much pleasure some men took from hurting women in this way. I thank my Master and Jim again for the disciplines that allowed me to not give Delcrest what he wanted most from me. Screams. I would not let him see how much he was hurting me. I would save the pain I felt and use it later when the time was right.   
  
For two nights he abused me. When I was taken back to the cells, I was shaky and sick to my stomach. I felt numb inside. My vision was narrowed and my head buzzed with the sound of my blood rushing in my ears. I was shutting out the world...the closer we got to the cells. I had lived but I did not want to face the men I had left there.  
  
"Jenny...speak to me please. Jenny." I don't know how long I had been lying on the cot in my cell. I don't know if I had even closed my eyes. I don't remember having seen anything, but I can't remember having opened them to see the ceiling...or if the ceiling had simply come into focus.  
  
"Oh..I'm sorry Artie...did you say something?" I shook my head to clear it, which didn't happen, and stood slowly and walked over to the bars dividing our cells. "How's Jim?"  
  
Artie didn't speak. I looked at him and felt a twinge of anger. I didn't want to see pity...not from anyone.  
  
"Stop it Artie." I hissed through my teeth. "I'm fine." I lied. "Jim? How is he?"  
  
Artie didn't speak.   
  
"I'm still alive." Came the voice from the cot in the other cell. I looked at Artie with alarm. "How are you?"  
  
I froze. I looked around and shrugged. "Delcrest keeps trying to get me to telegraph Fathe..."  
  
"I know what you did." Jim said this softly, but I could feel the fury under his voice. The strain. His eyes glared at me. I imagined his anger with me to be overwhelming.  
  
I turned an accusing glance at Artie who looked at the floor and at me alternately. "You told him?" I shook.  
  
"I didn't have too." Artie grimaced painfully. "Delcrest came yesterday to tell us." And from the expression of Artie's face Delcrest must have gone into cruel detail.  
  
I heard screaming in my head. I felt their pitying eyes on me like dirty hands and my whole body trembled at what he must have told them...Jim. I swayed and fell against the bars and my legs buckled as I sank to the floor and retched. When Artie and James reached for me, through the bars, I recoiled as though burned. I scrambled away from them. Like a frightened animal I cowered in the corner of my cell, and buried my head in my knees and closed my ears to their pleas that I look at them and speak. If I could have found a way, I would have killed myself then and there.  
  
It didn't matter anymore. Jim was getting stronger. He and Artie could probably find a way out now and that's what I had wanted. Wasn't it? What happened to me now didn't matter and I could just curl up and die if I willed myself to now and everyone could be happier and go on with their lives. I hugged my knees tighter and I must have been mumbling words to that effect because I heard Jim's voice rise above the din in my head. There was no pity in it. Strong....commanding. He told me they wouldn't leave without me. "Stand up and fight Tiger Lily!" he shouted.  
  
The door to the cell block opened and Jim and Artie stood. Delcrest stared at me as I raised my head slightly and smiled with open and delighted surprise. "Well, well, well...the ice queen thaws at last." He leaned against my bars, well out of reach of Jim, who looked at him with the muscles in his jaw clenching. "It was amazing gentlemen. For two days I couldn't get her to so much as blink...and I tried. And just a short time with you and she's reduced to a quivering mess. I must know your secret."  
  
The door to my cell opened and I groaned hopelessly as Delcrest yanked me off the floor by my hair. Jim was almost apoplectic. He pulled on the bars as though he could bend them, and Artie tried to pull him back with little success. I stood catatonic and stared, without emotion, straight ahead while Delcrest wrapped his arms around me and he reached around to roughly grab my breast through my shirt and squeezed. I did nothing. "See my friends? Nothing. Cold." He pushed me away from him hard and I crashed into the bars and into Jim's arms before I could hit the ground.  
  
"Jenny dear. I'll be back later tonight. We will need to send the first of the money transfer orders and I will need all your information to do so." He looked at me lazily. "Then perhaps you can convince me to keep you and your friends alive...but I warn you ...I must really be convinced."  
  
He turned on his heel and left. The sheriff locked my door and I heard him go back to his office up front. Delcrest I could hear as he laughed as he walked outside our windows.  
  
I didn't move for a moment. Jim and Artie took my arms carefully and lifted me slowly to my feet. I leaned against the bars to hold myself up and looked at the floor.  
  
"Are we ready to leave?" My voice was clear and calm. I could hear the question marks rise in the air around the two men. I lifted my head and felt a feral grin tug at my lips, lifting my hand palm up to show them the cell keys I had picked from Delcrest's pocket while he was baiting Jim.  
  
The men blinked at me. I opened our cells and as I entered theirs Jim grabbed me and dragged me forward into a hug that took my breath away. My heart wanted so much to respond to this. To melt against him and never let go but I wouldn't allow myself the comfort. The weakness.   
  
I looked at Jim as he held me at arms length. He looked back, and we were both obviously at a loss for words. "I'm not sorry I did it." I sounded flat. But inside my heart beat like a hammer. I could see he was upset. With me. With what I did. But he told me to fight...and he was part of that fight. He was the first battle. "It had to be done to get us ALL out of here. Are you going to give me grief about that for the rest of my life or what?" My voice sounded rough in my throat. I knew I looked a mess. My hair a mess, my face bruised and my body battered in a way I couldn't hide.   
  
He cocked his head and seemed to be examining me. The anger left his eyes, but the pity was still there, though he tried to hide it. He shook his head firmly.  
  
I nodded and we set to work.  
  
We made our way to the door leading to the sheriff's front offices and Artie helped Jim to the wall behind the door and Artie and I stood to the other side and I began to scream. It wasn't hard to evoke a scream. It was what my mind had been doing for days and it actually felt pretty good to use it in this case. It brought both the sheriff and his deputy running as we knew it would. As drawn guns entered the room first Artie grabbed the deputy's wrist and pulled the man inside and past us roughly slamming him into the cell bars opposite us falling unconscious at his feet, and I grabbed the sheriff's arm and snapped it cleanly with a jerk and with a turn I brought my foot into his throat and watched him collapse, choking on his own blood, from his crushed windpipe.  
  
I stood looking down at him for a moment. Curiously I felt nothing. Not pity. Not horror. Not fear. Nothing. I actually felt more uneasy about my lack of reaction then about the fact that I had just killed a man.   
  
When I looked up Jim was watching me. His eyes were sad...penetrating. I was suddenly defensive...angry. I shrugged at his unsaid disapproval of my sudden ability to kill. "Hate is a very good motivator." I hissed.  
  
Their train was berthed in the town of Oslo almost 30 miles away. We had to get Jim and Artie's horses from the stables across town and go before Delcrest and his men were alert to our escape.  
  
We made our way to the sheriff's office and looked out the window. Jim & Artie retrieved their guns and I watched for anyone's approach.  
  
Oddly enough I considered it a compliment when, without thinking, Artie pressed a loaded gun into my hand. I stared at the cold iron then at Artie.   
  
"I don't know how to shoot a gun Artie." I handed the gun back, holding the butt gingerly, like a snake that could bite me if I wasn't careful.   
  
Artie grinned apologetically and pushed the extra gun in his belt and we made an unobserved dash for the stables.  
  
  
  
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I rode behind Jim and found that as I held on to him, that this wasn't a ride like when I was a child. Then I was the one being steadied, but, though he would never admit it, Jim needed me to steady him. Muscles in his stomach bunched and cramped with the effort to stay in his seat and I knew he wasn't as well as he said he was by the sweat that beaded his face and neck as we rode. I kept my worries to myself and held him while he exerted himself past his limits to take us safely home.  
  
The terrain was rough and treacherous in the dark, but if we had all been in better condition we wouldn't have had any trouble traversing it. Artie was in the best condition. He kept a brisk lead ahead of us. When I called out in distress he turned in his saddle to see me struggling to keep Jim from falling from his horse. We stopped. Jim looked embarrassed and angry as we lowered him to the ground and he insisted he could ride but Artie was more persistent.   
  
"Jim..You're white as a ghost. And you're perspiring way too much. You look like you've run a 100 mile marathon." He helped Jim to an over cropping of rocks and I sat beside him. "And you don't look any better." he wagged a finger at me. I made a face and stuck my tongue out at him before I thought about it and Artie caught himself. trying hard not to grin.  
  
Artemus Gordon stood looking around. He seemed very tall and strong. He reminded me of Poppa from that angle and I shook my head when I realized my mind was wandering. I missed Poppa terribly at that point. Artie looked at us and set his face. "I'm going on Jim." I'll be back by morning with help. You need to stay here and out of sight. I'll take the horses. If we're being chased they will think we're still together."  
  
Jim looked prepared to argue. I placed my hand over his. "Jim...I can't ride anymore...it...um.." I looked down. "It hurts. You know?" It wasn't a lie. It did hurt..terribly...but not so much that I couldn't have ridden further if pressed. But if Jim was going to insist on riding , his injuries could be life threatening. It was all I could think of.  
  
Jim grimaced empathetically, and Artie looked at me with embarrassed concern until, out of Jim's line of vision, I winked at him. Then it was embarrassed gratitude. I shrugged and looked away. I would continue to use what I could...despite the emotional or physical discomfort. But I had to laugh inwardly at the decided upon location of my excuse. I almost cried as well.  
  
"Go on then Artie. I'll take care of things here." said Jim as he got up and brushed rocks away from the outcropping, with his feet, for a more comfortable place to rest. He stopped and swayed and steadied himself.  
  
Artie handed me Jim's saddle bags and bedroll. He looked at me worriedly.   
  
"We'll be okay Artie, but please hurry." I leaned toward Artie who kissed my cheek lightly and swung up into his saddle.  
  
"Artie?" Jim asked. "Don't I get a kiss?" he said, sticking out his lower lip in a pout.  
  
Artie laughed and turned in his saddle. "Not if your life depended on it."  
  
I leaned in and kissed Jim on the cheek. It was feather light, and I pulled back quickly and looked away, but I felt his eyes on me.   
  
Artie's charge receded in the night. I sat down tenderly and saw Jim peer around in the dark before sitting just as gingerly. I wondered what to say? What to do? "Can we make a fire?" I finally ventured, I opened the bedroll and shook out a blanket.  
  
Jim shook his head. "If we're being followed, it'd be a beacon. We're roughing it in our fort tonight Tiger Lily."  
  
I winced slightly at the reference to my childhood, which seemed now so impossibly far behind me. "It's cold." I said flatly.   
  
Jim put his arm around me and I felt myself go rigid. He pulled back and looked at me in the shadowed moonlight. "I'm cold too. Sitting closer will keep us both warm." His voice pitched lower. A choked whisper which tore my heart. "I won't hurt you Jennifer."  
  
I turned my head and leaned into Jim's embrace and fought hard not to tremble. After a few minutes I relaxed in his arms and stared from under heavy lidded eyes into the dark.   
  
Soon I was dozing. And the nightmare began. Pain. Fear. I woke in a blind, shrieking panic to feel a hand clamp over my mouth and I reached up and twisted a finger in the manner Master Lu taught me and heard a muffled gasp and struggled to escape the danger that gripped me like a seizure.  
  
My eyes focused slowly on Jim's face as he tried to calm me, tried to tell me to keep my voice down so we wouldn't be heard..he tried to comfort me and it was awkward for him, especially since I had almost broken his finger. I buried my face in my hands. I was shaking with desperation.  
  
"I'm sorry." His voice was low and his hand rubbed my back. "I'm so sorry this happened. I know what you did bought us time. Saved my life. But it shouldn't have been like that. Tiger Lily...what you did I can't fix for you. I can't get it back for you. What you gave up should've been something you gave, willingly, to the man you loved."  
  
I raised my head and looked into his eyes, only inches from mine. Could he still be so blind? I felt my vision blur with tears. "I did." I said hopelessly. "I did."  
  
He cupped my chin, his fingers trembled and I was awed, almost frightened, to see tears standing in his eyes. His voice was almost gone..barely a whisper. "I know you did Jenny." He shook his head and closed his hazel eyes and drew me against him. Our injuries had made us both vulnerable, and it was clear to me that vulnerable was a state James West didn't like at all. He coughed, looking very ill at ease, and we didn't say much after that. I wouldn't let my tears fall.   
  
The night passed slowly and Jim tried to stay alert, but he was still in need of rest, his head injury aggravated by our flight, and sleep took him long before it did me. Fear of more nightmares made me wakeful in a way I could never explain. The terrors your mind can recreate can seem just as real; can hurt almost as badly, as the images and actions that created them. I would sleep later. I listened to the steady beat of Jim's heart and gazed at his face relaxed, almost boyish in slumber. I eased away from him and stood. My mind was too full; I looked around in the dark. The moon cast the desert landscape in a strange light. Bluish and harsh. I shivered and walked out from under our outcropping and into the night. I decided to climb the hill for a better view. Maybe I would see Artie before James...On the top of the hill and just over it a way I sat on a rock and allowed the blue/black night to take me. My eyes were almost unfocused when I heard the pebbles behind me disturbed gently. I sighed and turned to greet Jim when a gun muzzle was pressed into my neck from behind.  
  
"Nice view Jennifer. Don't you think?" Delcrest's voice slithered in my ears like a worm burrowing its self in my brain. My mind raced furiously to Jim sleeping unaware at the foot of the hill.   
  
"All alone?" Delcrest sat beside me dragging the muzzle of the gun along my throat and side to press it under my ribs. He craned his head around to look into my face. "You forget me so soon?" I pressed my lips together as he pushed the gun into a bruise. "You weren't thinking I would just let you get away were you?" His hand touched my hair, tangling his fingers through it and pulling back my head with a brutal yank. "Where are West and Gordon?"  
  
I looked at him and glared. "Where are they?!" he growled. I suddenly didn't care what happened to me. It wasn't as though he could do anything more then take my life at this point. Instead, I smiled at him. He pulled my face to his and his eyes bore menacingly into mine. His eyes widened. He grinned. "You would die to protect him...wouldn't you?" He laughed. "Why? Do you think a man like him could love a slut like you? Do you think he would give up chasing skirts for a skinny, used, tagalong child?" He spat through his teeth. "Trust me dear, you weren't worth the time I gave you." He licked his lips.   
  
The heat in my chest and face rose to a point I couldn't bear. I closed my eyes and tried to calm myself. I pulled my head back and slammed my forehead into his with as much force as I could muster, his hand in my hair tearing out a large handful painfully. As he reeled back I grabbed the muzzle of the gun just as it fired. I felt a searing as the bullet grazed my side deeply, but not fatally, and my fingers burned as I pulled the gun down and twisted it out of his hand, hearing the faint snap as his index finger broke against the trigger guard.  
  
I rolled away from him and stood, crouched and ready. It was time to fight.  
  
"I'm not in a cage, or a stable now." I whispered low. "And you haven't got a gun or a hostage to hold over me." He was bent over holding his hand as I threw the gun into the night and listened to it clatter down the hill. The look of shocked fury on Delcrest's face made me laugh sourly.   
  
"Come on...seduce me. Hit me. Undress me! See if you can now!" I was circling him now. I was the predator. I was smiling. I felt a madness take me, and I gave myself over to it willingly.. "I wasn't worth the time you gave me?" His face was a mask of confused rage. "Dear...I gave you exactly what you're worth. Nothing." I leapt in the air and brought my foot into his chest propelling him backwards stumbling. "Not one sound. Not one sigh." He roared and lunged at me and I used his arm to drag him forward into his charge and plant my knee in his chin watching broken teeth and blood pour from his mouth. "No cries. No screams....NOTHING!"  
  
He lay on the ground on his back. I placed my booted foot on his windpipe and pressed watching his eyes bug out fearfully. "And it wasn't all that hard to do...giving you nothing. Not that I' ve had a lot of experience, mind you...but I imagine you've not pleased many ladies with the resources you possess." Humiliation burned in Delcrest's face. Powerless anger. Impotent anger. I felt my foot press home.  
  
I heard applause and whirled, expecting to find Decrest's men standing behind me. James stepped out of the shadows. Delcrest recovered enough to grab my foot and push me off balance and scramble to his feet. He eyed James and I warily, spitting blood onto the ground.   
  
"I heard a gunshot and couldn't find you." He saw the blood on my side which glistened wetly against my shirt. "You're shot." He was holding his gun and advanced toward Delcrest who stepped back, coming to a stop against a large boulder. Jame's face was dark, shadowed.  
  
"I'm ok Jim." I held my side. "It grazed me." Jim stopped next to me and looked at the wound.  
  
I looked down and away. "I was going to kill him Jim. You stopped me."   
  
"You didn't need that on your conscience." Jim looked at Delcrest with contempt. "He'll probably hang, let the law take care of that."  
  
Delcrest raised his head and laughed. "Hang? I don't think so. For what? Extortion?!"  
  
Jim turned on him. "For rape."  
  
Delcrest spat blood at Jim's feet. "You can't rape the willing." He looked at me with a bitter smile on his face. "Take this to court...I'll bide my time for a few years for kidnapping, assault...extortion. But I'll produce witnesses that she went with me willingly. They'll testify to her wantonness." He grinned at me. "Put her on the stand. Let her explain to the world what happened...in detail. That should be fun. To see her father...the reporters...." Delcrest was almost beside himself with hysterical laughter. "I won't hang for that slut...but I'll get the pleasure of seeing her destroyed before I go to prison!"  
  
Jim stood frozen. His frame, outlined by the low hanging moon quivered with barely contained rage. I saw his jaw clench and I knew Delcrest had survived me in order to play the wrong hand with James West. And I think Delcrest knew it too. His smug smile turned into a grim line and he plastered himself closer to the rock.   
  
"Jenny...go down and wait for Artie and make sure the two friends of Delcrest's are tied securely." Jim's voice was calm. Icy. "I'll be down in a minute."  
  
I placed a hand on his arm. "Jim?"  
  
"Go on Jenny" he didn't look at me. "Please."  
  
I looked back once more to see Delcrest throw me a hate filled, desperate look.  
  
I turned away.   
  
Half way down the hill I jumped at the sound of the gunshot I had rightly anticipated. I busied myself tying up Delcrest's unconscious accomplices which Jim had taken care of while he fought his way toward me. James came down the hill as the sun started to rise. He walked quietly over and tugged on the ropes I had secured and nodded. I didn't speak, but stood by waiting. He raised his eyes to my expectant face. They were as hollow as I knew my expression must be.  
  
"He tried to escape."  
  
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The small clinic in Oslo held James and I, and a very discreet doctor, for the next two weeks. Artie took care of the prisoners and rounding up further accomplices in Horse Head. Artie didn't question Delcrest's escape attempt, or how someone fleeing could be shot in the chest, powder burns blackening his coat. He saw him buried, and filed his reports with the local authorities.  
  
My recovery was awkward. Physically I was coming along fine. I wasn't pregnant, but I received that news alone. James decided to attend to some travel details when I asked him to be with me then.  
  
While challenging Delcrest had been somewhat cathartic, it did not erase what had been done to me. My nightmares plagued me. I feared becoming addicted to the opiates the doctor prescribed to help me sleep. I slept little during the trip. The fears I had acquired from Delcrest complicated the feelings I had for James West.   
  
And the tension on the train showed.  
  
James hovered, but kept a discreet, gentlemanly, respectable distance from me. He treated me kindly. But I could feel the gap grow between us and I ached, and hated myself, to think that Delcrest may have been right. How could Jim ever see me as anything but what I was now. Used.   
  
In a day we would be in San Francisco and after we turned over Master Lu's remains to his relatives Jim would leave me and what had happened to me would mean I would never hear from him again. The despair I felt was overwhelming.  
  
I had avoided the opiates the last night and couldn't sleep. Wrapped in a blanket against the night chill I went to the main compartment to find it dark. The trip trap noise of the train sounded for a moment like Jim's heartbeat as he held me that night on the desert. I sighed and turned to go back to my guest compartment when I heard the clinking of a glass making contact with a table.  
  
I peered into the gloom. "Hello?" I felt a moment's desire to run.  
  
"Tiger?" I heard a voice from the high-backed chair in the corner.  
  
I stepped out of the deepest shadows. I held the blanket up tight in front of me. "You're still awake?"  
  
"So are you." he ventured. "Nightmares?"  
  
I nodded, unsure he could see that in the dark. "You?" I asked sinking into the chair across from him.  
  
"Same." Came a hollow sounding answer.  
  
"You're having nightmares?" I asked, amazed. "Why?"  
  
He shrugged and sat down his drink and stood. "I'm going to try to sleep now."  
  
I caught his hand and held it as he tried to pass. "What are your nightmares about Jim?" My voice was steady, which surprised me. He looked at me and shook his head.   
  
"No...Tiger...no." He tried to pull his hand from mine..almost in annoyance, he extricated them and I heard his steps retreat. I made a small choking sound. I stared at my fingers in the dark.  
  
I gasped to feel his hand on my shoulder. I didn't look back. "Jim...what do you dream about?"  
  
The hand squeezed my shoulder slightly. "I can't." His voice sounded strained.   
  
"Jim..they can't be worse then mine." I tried to make that sound light.  
  
"Jenny, he told us what he did to you." I felt my shoulder tense against his hand. "He told us everything he did."  
  
I had to know. "Is that why you won't talk to me? Because of what happened?" I choked on the words. "Because I'm used?"  
  
Jim pulled his hand away as though he was burned. I lowered my head and closed my eyes. They snapped open again as he grabbed me by both arms and shook me. He knelt on the floor in front of me. "Is THAT what you think?!" His teeth were clenched and he stared at me wildly. "Is THAT what you think I feel about you?!!"  
  
I was at my end. "What else should I think? I know you feel sorry for me. But I can't stand it anymore." I tried to pull back, but he held me tight. "I can't live with the pity and I can't live with you not speaking to me."  
  
Jim blinked. "Jenny!" I can't sleep. When I do, I dream you are screaming for me. Looking for me to help you and I can't get to you!" He let go of my arms and fell back on his knees. "Sometimes I see him hurting you, and I'm just standing there, letting him." I leaned toward him. He pulled away. "When you were younger, I was flattered by your hero worship. I tried not to lie to you, but I know I promised to keep you safe. " He stared at the ground like a medieval penitent. "I didn't want to be less then what you expected of me. But when you needed me most, I wasn't there for you, and I can't get back what you gave me!"   
  
I dropped to my knees next to him and touched his hands. "Jim...between the war, you saving my life when I fell, my mother and brother's deaths, what happened in the stable, you have always been there. Even when you weren't. You were what kept me going when Father buried himself in work. You made me believe I could be more then what Father and Mother expected me to be."  
  
"You'd have been safer if I you'd have listened to them."   
  
"I'd have been ordinary if I had. And unhappy." This time I mustered the courage and lifted his head with both my hands. "I never wanted to be ordinary."  
  
He chuckled. "No worry there."  
  
I smiled. Then I became serious again. "Jim...I know you aren't a person who can be ordinary either, or settled. I would never tie you down, or expect you to love me." His eyes bore into me. "But Jim...I love you." I pressed my lips to his, and at first he seemed ready to pull back, then he returned my kiss, gently, slowly, sweetly. His lips were soft and I didn't want the kiss to end. When we parted he looked at me. He could see the decision in my eyes. "Tiger Lily...no."  
  
I let the blanket fall from my shoulders and slid my arms around his waist. "I gave something out of love...and would do it again if I had too." I pressed my body to his chest and looked into his uncertain gaze. "Jim...we both need something to replace the nightmares. Just for tonight." He smiled gently, he looked at me like he was seeing something he had never seen before...like I was a curiosity in a museum. "What are you thinking? I asked.  
  
"I think..." he kissed my throat and cheek. "You're a grand lady Tiger Lily."  
  
The nightmares ended....for both of us.  
  
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You may assume what you may from my admission of a physical relationship with James West. I don't mind. What most would assume besides their views on my morals would be that like a common rake, James would have no interest in me beyond the bed afterwards. In that assumption I think we surprised even Artemus Gordon, who told me privately that in a strange way I was the only woman James had any sort of permanent relationship with, as odd as our friendship was. Odd friends to such an extent that we could confide and share things that would be most uncommon for a man and woman to share. There was no possessiveness, no clinging, which I think Jim feared, for he is not a man fond of a clinging female, and the love between us was supported by a mutual respect.  
  
I was no longer a child.  
  
When Father passed away 2 yrs later James was the first I confided my plans for the future to as he comforted me.  
  
"Travel broadens the mind" he smiled resting on his elbow.   
  
"Yes...and all work and no play makes Jenny a dull girl." I quipped back. Lying back in his arms. "Business is good...I have no money concerns...and with Poppa gone this place is too empty of voices and too full of memories. I need time to learn new things and live a little while I decide what to do next."  
  
"Where too then? London...Paris?" He asked.  
  
"Too ordinary Jim." I smiled slyly. "Think like me."  
  
"OHHHHhhhh No!" he groaned and I hit him with my pillow. "Where to first?"  
  
"Egypt!" I laughed. I hadn't laughed in weeks and felt good. "Then Palestine...then Saudi Arabia, India and China..and Tibet!" I saw his eyes grow bigger and bigger and bigger as I spoke.  
  
"No No No No No!" He sat up looking at me in disbelief. "Tiger...please tell me you aren't going alone."  
  
"Are you offering?" I asked with a giggle.  
  
"Well no...you know I can't." he stammered.   
  
I pouted.  
  
"I'm joking...I know you can't come. Much as I would love you too." I beamed at him. "But don't worry. I'm taking Mary Lu with me."  
  
He rolled his eyes at me. "Two pretty young women wandering the Orient and Middle East...Tiger you're going to make me old worrying!"  
  
"And we're taking Chang Lu...remember him from the funeral of Master Lu?"   
  
"Mary's brother...the 6 foot tall 260 lb wrestler?" Jim whistled. "Yes...I remember him." Jim rubbed his shoulder recalling the ache he got from a throw by Chang. "Who'd have thought Master Lu would have such a giant of a grandson."  
  
"Or that all of his children would be skilled in the same arts he was?" I added. "So...do my plans meet with your approval now Mr. West?"  
  
He nodded reluctantly. "How long will you be gone?"  
  
I sighed. "We're looking at 3 or 4 years."  
  
"So long?" he said. He looked genuinely distressed by the length of time.  
  
"Well, I want to really experience the cultures, learn some of the languages. I want to do this right the first time." I showed my teeth in a broad smile. "You know me. Not big on regrets..."  
  
"You'll write?"   
  
"If you don't mind getting letters that've been chewed on by camels?" I hugged him. "Of course I'll write."  
  
"Be careful." he said sternly. "I can't rescue you if you get yourself in a pickle in Siam."  
  
"I'm always careful." I said sincerely, only to be knocked off the bed by a well swung down pillow.  
  
  
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My adventures in Asia were exciting. Some frightening, some deadly dangerous and all of them I recounted to James in lengthy letters and, when possible, I received equally long sermons on safety, and what I should have done...and once a note attached by Artie asking for a certain kind of caviar. I chastised James that at least Artie didn't feel the need to lecture me. Like a true Gourmet his stomach came first.  
  
Someday I will compile my diaries of my travels and my photos and publish them. But I'm honestly too tired most days. Children take more energy then fighting Thugge bandits or avoiding ending up on the auction bloc in an Arabian Bazaar. Trust me.  
  
  
  
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Oh yes...upon my return I did marry. James met me at the bottom of the Manor staircase and took my arm. He looked as handsome as ever and the way he looked at me showed he approved of the heavy silk of white with gold embroidery I purchased in China and had made into my wedding dress. My hair gathered high on my head was crowned in a wreath of the flowers of my moniker and a strand Mother's pearls. I personally feared every step I took would tumble it.   
  
So, of course, James squeezed me in a tight hug I thought might pop my buttons and kissed my cheek.  
  
"You're Beautiful Tiger Lily!" he whispered.  
  
"I'm scared to death." I smiled nervously. "I'm going to faint."  
  
"You?" Jim steadied me. "Never."  
  
"Jim...I don't know if I can do this. I stared straight ahead. Faces turned toward us and flowers drifted where the flower girls scattered them as though they were fighting with snowballs. Music drifted towards us and I felt rooted to the floor.  
  
I suddenly looked toward Jim with panicked tears in my eyes. "I don't think I can." I mouthed.  
  
Out of thin air, it seemed Artie appeared at my elbow and I jumped.   
  
"Is there a problem?" Then he did a double take and grinned big. "Stunning!"  
  
"She says she's scared." Jim whispered. I hated him for the smug grin he wore.  
  
"The groom looks a little green around the gills too." Artie observed.  
  
Jim nodded. "Do you love him Tiger?"  
  
I turned my head to look at my fiancé. Lord Alistair Sims, looked less like a titled peer of Great Britain and more like nervous schoolboy as he tugged nervously on his dress uniform and his best man reassured him, again, that everything was in place. I smiled. He was taller then either Jim or Artie with hair nearly as red as mine. He was broad shouldered and handsome in his uniform, but he did appear to be flushed and was busily trying to blow a stray hair from his, oh so blue, eyes.  
  
I turned to Jim and nodded with a smile. Alistair was a dear. Handsome and brave, and after allowing them to meet and sharing the truth, in everything that had happened between us, he earned Jim's favor by asking for my hand, from him, in my Father's absence. Alistair liked me as I was and didn't try to make me ordinary and that earned Jim's respect. And after a stern talk from Jim...and after James warned him about all my more unusual quirks..."Boadicca?! Really Mr. West?!" (I could kill him sometimes) Alistair still accepted the challenge of marriage to me.  
  
And James walked me toward my bridegroom with all the pride and happiness a man can express. And after kissing me tenderly, he whispered as I looked at him through eyes that filled with tears. "I love you Lady Tiger Lily." Then he placed my hand in Alistair's and pointed a finger under his aristocratic nose. "Be good to her...OR ELSE."  
  
Alistair smiled happily. "Yes Sir!"  
  
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James' visited us when we came back to the States almost 9 years later. We spend most of our time in England at Alistair's family estates with our 4 children. Our letters had become less frequent again. He had left the service. He mentioned a small Mexican town in a letter I had received and his desire to move there...something about no other men there...just lots of beautiful women. I give it little credence...sounds like a men's fairy tale. A libido ness Shangri-la.  
  
As he approached on horseback it struck me how good he looked. It was almost a sin. As I stood on the steps of our home James stepped toward me with his arms out and a scream tore the air. My 8 year old daughter, trying to get a better view, tumbled out the window above our heads. James dove forward without thinking and caught her before she struck the flagstone stairs. As he opened his eyes and groaned, I forced myself to take a breath. Frizzy red hair and dirty play clothes lay tangled in his lap and shaking. When she looked up into the hazel eyes of her savior I felt a wave of déjà vu grip me and I sighed.  
  
Jim looked at me and started laughing.  
  
"James...meet Lily." I chuckled.  
  
Jim smiled at her. "Pleased to meet you Lily."  
  
Lily couldn't speak...another Pretty Young Thing caught under the spell of James West. 


End file.

Wild Wild West, Drama, Romance